


Snow

by pitypartyof1



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Adorable, Christmas, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Romantic Getaway, Sentimental Ashton, Snow, Soft SOS, Winter, soft, tooth rotting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-02-07 03:30:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18612220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pitypartyof1/pseuds/pitypartyof1
Summary: Ashton and Calum go away for the holiday and bask in each other with a little bit of romance.





	Snow

**Author's Note:**

> So I started writing this clear back sometime around when Ashton posted the photos of himself and his family in the snow. Finally, finally got around to finish it. I feel like the ending could be better, but sometimes, you need to just be done. Please let me know your thoughts!

Snow drifts past outside, slowly fluttering down. It’s not a blizzard but it’s close, a steady snowfall, the flakes large and moisture packed. Ashton, face pressed to the window, can barely see to the end of the drive leading up to the cabin where they’re tucked away. He’s been told that every snowflake is different, no single one matching another but from here, they all just look like giant cotton balls to him. Or maybe like a fuzzy bunny tail.

Even inside, with the fire roaring nice and warm, he’s still bundled to the nines. Not only has he never seen snow before now, he’s never really experienced true cold like this. The temperature outside is something like one degree Celsius. A log collapses with a crack, sparks popping. The smell of wood smoke is subtle inside, but it’s beautiful. It makes him feel just – just so comfortable drenched in Christmas.

Maybe it’s silly, but curled on the couch with his fuzzy socks, mittens, sweater and hat, watching the snow mount up in the porch light, he’s happy. The only thing he’s missing is his boyfriend warm against his side and mugs of hot chocolate in both their hands. Everything will be perfect the moment Calum returns with their sweet drinks. Still, he doesn’t mind staring out and watching the snow. It’s magical, especially with the fire and the log cabin.

With the muted, comfortable atmosphere, it’s easy to sink into his thoughts and drift a bit. This experience has made him realize exactly how much he’s been missing – how much they both missed. Ashton doesn’t think he’ll be able to go back to not seeing snow during the winter. This will probably become an annual trip for the two of them if he has anything to say about it.

Even the cabin adds a special element. It’s so _rustic_ and Ashton never thought rustic would be a style he’d enjoy. Somehow, here secluded in the trees, it’s everything he needs. The logs are a bright and cheery kind of wood, he can see the chinking in the gaps. The place even smells like pine, but he’s sure that’s his imagination. The webpage said the cabins were quite old, they’re not likely to still smell of new cuts and sap. Still, he’s more than willing to let his thoughts trick him in this instance; it creates a very pleasant atmosphere.

“It’s almost done!” Calum calls from the kitchen, his voice accompanied by a light scraping sound – the spoon against the pot. He’s making hot chocolate the old-fashioned way, on the stove with real ingredients and not the little packets of powder, Ashton knows.

A moment later, he hears the clinking of ceramic and turns to face the doorway. Calum steps through, attempting to juggle two mugs, some marshmallows, chocolate, and graham crackers. Debating the finer points of getting up to assist his boyfriend, he frowns slightly. Before he can make up his mind Calum is there, settling the mugs and other items on the coffee table and slipping down next to him, planting a kiss on Ashton’s forehead.

“What’s all that for,” he asks lightly, dipping his head towards the marshmallows, chocolate and grahams.

“S’mores, of course,” Calum grins cheekily. “We can pull the grate open a crack and toast marshmallows.”

“We don’t have any sticks or anything though!”

“We do,” Calum counters the objection easily, gesturing to the two collapsible camping sticks made for exactly the purpose of cooking things over a fire.

He must have snuck them in, Ashton realizes, suddenly struck by how stupidly romantic Calum is. A snow-covered cabin with hot chocolate and s’mores? So romantic, no matter how much his boyfriend might turn red and try to protest. Ashton wouldn’t trade it for anything. He’s never been afraid to admit that he’s a little needy and sentimental in love. “Wow,” he whispers dreamily, nestling into Calum’s side and flashing him a gaze that’s almost dreamy.

Calum’s cheeks color sweetly and he ducks his head a bit. Ashton knows he’s secretly pleased with himself, evidenced by the soft smile he tries to hide from view.

“This is going to be the most perfect Christmas I’ve ever had.”

Fingers winding through his honey curls, Calum chuckles softly. “For me, too. Weird, all this white stuff, isn’t it?” he asks lightly, mostly joking.

“I love it,” Ashton whispers reverently. “I want to see snow every Christmas from now on, Cal. It’s perfect. I finally understand why people talk about wanting a white Christmas.” Chin resting on his partner’s shoulder, he stares out the window once more. The thought of every flake being unique invades once again and Ashton presses a smile into Calum’s shoulder. “I can’t wait to go outside tomorrow and make a snow angel. You’ll make one with me, right?”

“Of course. It’ll freeze my balls off but for you, yeah. I’ll roll around in the snow with you,” Calum’s eyes crinkle as he laughs.

Ashton beams, giggling brightly. “You’re not going to lose your balls! I promise I’ll warm them back up for you when we’re done,” he teases, brows doing a suggestive dance.

The brown-eyed man breaks, cackling. “Baby, you know I’ll never say no to that. Now eat a s’more and drink your cocoa before I decide to ruin the romantics by taking advantage of you the way you love so much.”

“Later,” Ashton admonishes, slapping at his shoulder, cheeks heating nicely. They both know he’s a greedy bottom. He’ll never say no to Calum eating him out or any of the other number of things he likes to do to him. It works out well given how often Calum enjoys having sex. They never seem to get tired of each other.

Calum’s eyes spark. “Count on me remembering that.”

It’s probably meant to sound sensual and promising, but the effect is sort of ruined by the cocoa mustache on his upper lip after he takes a sip. Ashton shakes his head fondly, sipping his own. He knows Calum won’t forget. Neither of them will. From the moment Ashton said it, a countdown clock had started for them both.

“Make me a s’more,” he demands suddenly, poking Calum’s ankle with a toe.

Ashton gets his s’more.

Ashton also gets Calum’s tongue and fingers buried in his ass twenty minutes later, the two of them spread out on a blanket on the floor in front of the fire. Neither of them has any self-control and, as Calum’d said, it’s a good compromise between sex and romance.

“Ah, _fuck_ ,” he moans, eyes squeezing shut as his thighs tremble around Calum’s head. This really is his favorite thing. Aside from having Calum taking him to pound town, coming around his fingers and tongue is Ashton’s preferred orgasm. His boyfriend is a fucking magician with his mouth. “ _more,_ ” he whines petulantly.

The puff of Calum’s small laugh has him clenching and moaning. “Fuck, Cal, forget it. Just fuck me, please, c’mon,” he tugs at Calum’s hair, still pouting as he pulls away.

“You’re indecisive tonight,” Calum rasps, mouth spit slick, as he wipes his fingers against the blanket.

Ashton flips him off, skin prickling with heat and arousal. “Hurry up,” he whines again.   

They don’t last long but it’s okay. They’ll go at least once more. Coming down all tangled up in front of the fire is a perfect moment and Ashton has to lend some credit to Calum’s theory of sex by the fire being romantic. “Mm,” he hums tiredly, reaching up and taking a sip of his slightly warm cocoa. “Love you, Cal.”

“Gimmie some of that,” Calum groans, making grabby hands at the cup.

“Asshole,” Ashton pouts, “could at least say you love me, too.”

“You know I do,” Calum whispers softly, “so much. Now give me cocoa before I die of thirst.”  


End file.
